


Undying Fidelity

by whatyoufish4



Series: I Assure You, Brother [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Also maybe trigger warning for discussion of suicide?, Gen, Happy halloween, I mean I guess they could do this in Avengers 4 but I sort of doubt it, Like it's not technically suicide but better safe than sorry, Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-09 20:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16456523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatyoufish4/pseuds/whatyoufish4
Summary: “Found a path to resurrection at last, did you, Loki?” Thor had chuckled, and wiped a hand at the back of his mouth. Then he froze, seeing the crimson stain across the back of his hand shining in the light of the nearly-full moon.Blood. Not his own.“I’m sorry, Brother,” Loki had said, sorrow and defiance shining like twin stars in his face. “But I promised. I promised you I’d find a way to make it right. ‘Undying fidelity,’ remember?  I just … had to get a bit literal on the ‘undying’ part.”





	1. Chapter 1

The young man fell to his knees – less because of the pain of his newly sprained ankle, more because his fear would not allow him to remain upright. He was quietly weeping, eyes huge in his face. His bright yellow jacket was muddied and torn; there was blood on the cuffs of his slacks.

“Please,” he kept saying to the woman in front of him. “I’m begging you. Just leave me alone. _Please._ ”

The woman smiled. It was not a kind smile, even discounting the fangs revealed by her curling lips. “Darling,” she said, “It’s so sweet of you to ask me nicely. But I’m afraid my mind is quite made up.”

She began to advance on him, slowly, and he dragged himself backwards on hands and knees, until he’d reached the end of the alley and there was nowhere else to go. His hands scrabbled for a broken bottle or a chunk of broken concrete – anything to use as a weapon – but there was nothing in sight. 

“Please,” he kept saying. “ _Please._ ”

When she reached him, she knelt beside him in the soft low light of the distant streetlamps, her long red coat pooling about her like blood. 

“How about this?” She leaned towards him, to whisper in his ear – and he shuttered, trying unsuccessfully to pull away from her. “Our kind usually likes to take our time, but I’ll show mercy. I won’t drag it out. It’ll be quick and painless. Well, nearly painless. I promise.”

“Please don’t,” wept the man. “I don’t want to die.”

“We all have to die, darling,” she said to him. “Trust me – it’s not as bad you might think. I should know.”

She smiled at him again, the light in her eyes glittering unnaturally. The man tried to bolt to one side, but her hand was on his shoulder like a snake-strike, fingers digging deep into the flesh of his arm, locking him in place. He struggled uselessly against the hold. He tried to let out a scream, call for help, but his chest was constricted, his breath trapped in his throat.

“Hold still now,” she whispered. “We need to make this quick.”

Then her smile grew, and grew, her jaw impossibly unhinging as she craned her fangs towards the throbbing vein in his neck – 

And then suddenly, the jutting point of a stake burst from her chest. She shrieked in pain, dropping her hold on her victim and whirling to confront her attacker.

The newcomer behind her was tall and pale and dressed all in black. His hand was still outstretched from plunging the stake into her back, and his expression was so surprised it bordered on the apologetic.

“You _dare,_ ” she hissed, as one hand came up to cradle the point sticking out of the center of her chest. No. Not quite the center. A little too low and to the right, actually. “You dare to try and slay _me?_ ”

“Damn,” said her would-be slayer, smiling somewhat sheepishly. “I _missed?_ How did I _miss?_ ”

She sneered at the newcomer, her other hand reaching around her at an impossible angle to yank out the stake buried in her back. When she pulled it around, even through the blood, she could see it was not a stake at all.

“A wooden dagger? How quaint.” She tossed the knife aside, where it clinked against the brick of the alleyway. “These days, it’s all silver-powered rifles and energy blasters cooled with holy water. Calling this is throwback would be insulting to throwbacks.”

“What can I say?” He had the audacity to sound amused. “I’m somewhat old-fashioned.”

“One of those ‘abides by traditions’ Slayers, are we?” She wobbled to her feet, her hand still clutching the hole in her chest – one from which no blood was issuing. “Please. I was feasting upon the blood of innocents while you were still in diapers, boy.”

Loki grinned at her, letting his mouth widen enough that she could see the fangs gleaming in his smile. “Don’t be so sure of that.”

She froze, shock momentarily breaking through her coolness. Her eyes went from black to red, both hands coming to clench at her sides. “You are _one_ of us,” she snarled. “Liar. Murderer. _Betrayer!_ ”

“Only two of those are really applying these days,” said Loki. He spun a hand, and a new wooden dagger manifested itself in his hand. “Now look, of the two of us – who is about to be doing a spot of murder around here, hmmm?”

“It is not murder; it is survival. Would you have us live off the dead blood of corpses and donors?”

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with a nice serving of O-positive straight out of the bag, and you know it. Second of all,” and Loki thought about taking a step closer to her, but she was watching him too closely, “‘Survival’ is a little much to say about the likes of us, isn’t it? After all, you and I are already dea—”

She gave an inhuman shriek and darted at him, far faster than a moral eye could’ve followed. There was something suddenly in her hand, and while Loki moved fast enough to miss the full force of her strike, he could not quite avoid a glancing blow. He hissed and stumbled back, cradling his arm to his chest.

“Silver blade,” he said almost approvingly, nodding at the knife she held in her hand. The hilt was wrapped in strips of something, protecting her from the touch of silver even as she used it against him. “Now who’s betraying whose own kind?”

“Self-defense,” she said to him, mockingly, and came at him again. Somehow, he’d managed not to drop his own dagger, and this time he was able to swing out of her way – too far to make a stab with his weapon, but enough that he managed a swift kick to the back of her knee that sent her sprawling to the ground. 

She’d spun from her stomach to her back in the split second it took him to lean over her, and when he plunged the wooden dagger towards her chest, she blocked it with her weapon, the force of her blow snapping his dagger in two. He groaned in frustration, tossing the pieces aside and manifesting yet another weapon just as she reached out a foot to hook behind his ankle and sweep him to the ground. Then she was on top of him, her knee in his chest, her silver blade at his throat. The silver burned, though it would’ve been much more uncomfortable if he’d needed to breathe.

He shifted only slightly, adjusting his grip on the wooden blade – but she felt the movement and snatched the dagger away, tossing it over her shoulder to clatter against the side of the alleyway. Then she leaned down, pressing her weight onto his chest. He tried to reach up, to grasp at her wrists or perhaps throw her off him, but his arms were half-pinned and he couldn’t manage the angle without leaning into the blade at his throat.

“Last words, little liar?” she asked almost idly. “Perhaps I’ll cut out your silver tongue with this silver blade and save it as a trophy, hmm?”

“Now, that really is unfair. I never said I _wasn’t_ a vampire, did I?” He grinned at her, and she snarled, pulling far enough away to backhand him across the face. He rolled his eyes – unable to speak, for she’d knocked his jaw half out of alignment – and winced as she wrapped her fingers around his neck. She tossed her blade into the shadows, then grinned down at him, fangs and eyes gleaming with a kind of disconcerting joy. Loki wondered idly if she planned on drinking his blood or simply tearing his throat – and then, in all probability, the rest of him – into pieces.

He twisted away from her, bucking against her hold on his throat. She sneered at him, fangs lowering – and then hesitated, her eyes sliding from his neck to his chest. The leather cord around his neck had slipped from beneath the folds of his shirt.

“What is this?” She pulled the locket up to examine while keeping a careful hold on the leather cord, being sure not to touch the metal. “Is this – _silver?_ ”

“Not – silver,” Loki mumbled through his half-dislocated jaw. “Uru.”

“And what could it be?” she said, as if he hadn’t spoken. She darted a touch to the locket, and when it failed to burn her, she reached out to twist it between her fingertips. “An amulet of some kind, of course, but what powers does it contain?” 

“No power,” managed Loki. “Just a – memento. From home. Don’t see – why you should care.”

She glanced at him, grinning. “If it’s so unimportant, I’m sure you won’t mind me examining it?”

“Wouldn’t – if I were you.”

Leering at him, she set the locket between her fingertips and prized it open.

The alleyway burst into golden light. She screamed, a horrible rending sound, and threw up her hands to protect her face – but it was far too late for that. The light was burning through her, illuminating her in stark relief even as her features disintegrated into dust and ash. The locket fell from her crumbling fingers, hitting the ground with a faint ping that was lost in the roaring sound of wind and flame.

When it was over, Loki pushed himself into a sitting position, then reached up with both hands and shoved his jaw back into place. He looked over his shoulder at the man in the torn yellow jacket, who was still huddled against the wall of the alleyway.

“Sorry about all that.” Loki gave a reassuring smile, which meant one in which he was careful to keep his teeth from showing. “I assure you, we’re not all like that.”

“Y-you mean – ” The man seemed almost to choke and had to stop to swallow hard. “It’s true, what she said? You’re really a – a –”

“A vampire, yes,” said Loki smoothly. “Do you think you might do me a favor?”

The man blinked. “A – favor?”

“That locket over there.” Loki nodded towards the pendant, still glowing with a faint golden light even amongst the heap of ashes. “Would you be so kind as to retrieve it for me?”

After hesitating for only a moment, the man lurched to his feet, then limped across the alleyway. He grimaced, then plunged his hand into the pile of ashes, pulling the locket from the center of the heap. Then he looked down to where Loki was still sitting, arms braced against the ground.

“Aren’t you going to get up?” asked the man, warily.

“Only if you don’t think I’m going to attack you,” said Loki, almost cheerfully. “Thought I might seem less threatening here on the ground.”

The man considered this for a moment. “You did just save my life. Looked like it hurt, even.” He hesitated, then groaned, running his free hand through his hair. “I’m too exhausted to be scared anymore. It’s all right.”

Loki smiled, then came slowly to his feet. The man made to hand Loki the locket, and Loki stepped back hastily, one hand coming up to shield his face as he winced.

“Would you mind terribly closing that first?” he said.

The man looked surprised, but did as asked. Instantly the alley was plunged into darkness. With a faint sigh – half in relief, and half with some other, heavier emotion – Loki held out his hand, and allowed the locket to be dropped into his waiting palm.

“Thank you,” said the man. “Thank you so much. You – you saved my life.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Loki, magnanimously, but looked so undeniably proud that the man’s lips twitched into a returning smile. It had been an odd evening, to put it mildly, but there was no denying that, even though he’d just met two vampires for the first time in his life, one was decidedly more pleasant than the other. He was certain enough of this to even risk asking a question.

“So what _was_ that?” asked the man, nodding at the locket still cradled in Loki’s palm.

“A gift,” said Loki, without looking at him, as he slipped the cord back over his neck.

“Yeah, but what –”

“Sunlight,” said Loki, looking up and giving a half smile. The man looked slightly nervous but did not move away. “A beam of sunlight, locked into the heart of an uru vessel. Comes in handy when one’s hunting vampires.”

“Oh,” said the man, thinking this over. Then he frowned slightly. “But you – aren’t you? –”

“I am,” said Loki.

“Then – isn’t it dangerous? For you to carry it around?”

“Dangerous? Perhaps. But –” Loki tucked the pendant back into the folds of his shirt. “I’ve always thought it worth the risk to find a little light.”

* * * * *

It had begun centuries before, in the aftermath of the war. And, to be fair, the plan had not been Loki’s first choice. As he’d tried to point out to Thor, on more than one occasion.

The war against Thanos had cost them all – cost the worlds, the realms, the galaxies themselves. But it had cost the Asgardians more than most. Unfair, after all they had already lost – but undeniable all the same. Even before the war itself, half the survivors had sacrificed their lives in Thanos’s initial attack on the _Commodore._

Half the survivors, and Loki. 

Or so it had appeared.

(“You did it to me _again,_ ” Thor would snipe, later, in those early days when he was still deciding if he forgave Loki for what Loki had done. “That’s three _times,_ Loki.”

“Fool you once, shame on me –” Loki had begun, and then had had to duck out of the way when Thor had taken a swing at his head.)

After the attack on the _Statesman,_ after Thor’s quest for a new weapon worthy of vengeance – after that had come the war, and even Thor’s cavalry-worthy entrance and the use of Stormbreaker had not been enough to stop the Mad Titan. Not then; not yet. More had been lost then; half of Midgard, half of the galaxy. Half of the scant few surviving Asgardians.

And then, there had been only combat. For months on end, as Thor and the remaining Avengers tried to bring down the one who had rained so much destruction, so much death, upon them all. Thor lost count of not only the bodies, but the battles themselves. He had seen so many battles, so many bodies, so much blood in his fifteen hundred years. But never had he known war like this. He had not understood how much it would change him.

Or perhaps it was not the fighting that changed him. Perhaps it was what he had lost.

When the final battle of the war had commenced, Thor had gone into the fight unsure if he would survive. He had also been a fair trifle unconcerned by the notion. It was not that he wished to die; it was more that he simply could not work up the required effort to be particularly concerned. His life for Thanos’s seemed like a not-entirely-unreasonable trade, if it so came to that.

And so he went into the battle with Stormbreaker ablaze and thunder raging, prepared to pay whatever price it took to bring an end to the fight. When his lightning had inevitably burned itself out, when Stormbreaker had been shattered like Mjolnir before it by the force of the Gauntlet, when his ribs had broken and his skull fractured by the raw power of the Mad Titan … he questioned none of it. Begrudged none of it. When he rallied himself for one final, desperate blow at Thanos, he knew, whatever happened, that he’d have the satisfaction of knowing he’d given everything he had in him to give.

And then there had been darkness.

When he came to on the battlefield, he’d assumed he’d lost consciousness – apparently for some time, given how dark it had become. He blinked hard a few times, wondering if his vision had been affected by concussion, until he decided it must simply be nightfall. Then he’d gingerly sat up, propping himself upright on outstretched arms, surprised by how light he felt, how detached. No aches, no hurts. Other than a sensation of nearly unbearable thirst, he seemed to be in a fighting-fit condition such as he hadn’t felt in months.

Then he turned to get his bearings – and there was Loki, kneeling beside him in the dust. 

“Loki!” He’d thrown his arms around his brother, hugging him hard, and felt the beginning of tears welling in his good eye. 

“Hello, Brother,” Loki had mumbled, and if his voice did not seem properly enthusiastic, he at least was hugging Thor back. Thor squeezed tightly, expecting Loki to protest, but Loki had only endured the hug with silent stoicism. 

At last, Thor had pulled back, keeping his hands on his brother’s shoulders as if to reassure himself that Loki was not about to slip away into the shadows once more. “I just – I can’t believe it. Again. You did it again.” His voice was rasping in his throat, a strange ache against the splitting thirst. “How did you get here? How did you escape the _Statesman?_ When last I saw you –” Then he’d trailed off, nearly choking on the splitting dryness in his throat.

“Here,” Loki had said, quietly, offering him a flask. Thor’s throat tightened, and he took the proffered flask with a hand that trembled slightly, too thirsty to bother ask about its contents. The liquid inside was rich and heady and just slightly warm, and seemed to coat his throat in a way that soothed his thirst far quicker than he could have imagined.

“Thank you,” he said, relieved, handing Loki the flask back. “Turns out nearly dying is thirsty work. Suppose you would know!” He chuckled, and only then did he notice that his brother, though meeting his eyes, looked slightly ashamed.

“There’s … something I need to explain to you,” Loki began hesitantly. “It’s about how I came back …”

“Found a path to resurrection at last, did you, Loki?” Thor had chuckled, and wiped a hand at the back of his mouth. Then he froze, seeing the crimson stain across the back of his hand shining in the light of the nearly-full moon. 

Blood. Not his own. 

“I’m sorry, Brother,” Loki had said, sorrow and defiance shining like twin stars in his face. “But I promised. I promised you I’d find a way to make it right. ‘Undying fidelity,’ remember? I just … had to get a bit literal on the ‘undying’ part.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Asgardians called them _draugar,_ but the Midgardian word for what they had become was _vampire._ The Earthly legends had most of the beats correct, in fact: perpetual night, strength and speed, vulnerability to silver and stake. A thirst only blood could quench. And, above all, a stagnant immortality. 

Of course, in the legends, vampires were all quiet suffering and elegant angst. This part proved to be … less than accurate.

“ _What did you do to me?_ ” Thor roared. “What did you do to _us?_ ”

“Well –” Loki had tried, shifting in his seat. They were sitting in rickety chairs in a years-abandoned apartment, the building having clearly taken some hard wear and tear even before the war.

“No, wait. What the hell am I thinking? I know _what_ you did.” Thor was no longer roaring but he definitely had not calmed down. 

“Thor –”

“Now it’s just a matter of deciding whether to ask _how_ first, or _why._ ” Thor shot Loki a murderous glare. “Which answer will make me angriest?”

“It’s not as bad as all that, when you really –”

“Probably _why,_ ” Thor mused. “ _How_ is just a matter of technicality. _Why_ is where things are going to get sticky.”

“If you would just be so kind as to let me explain –”

“ _Why the hell did you turn us into draugar, Loki?_ ”

“You might as well get used to saying ‘vampire,’” said Loki, helpfully. “It’s much more accurate.”

“All right,” said Thor, with a sudden stab of cheerfulness that left Loki pulling back slightly in his seat. “You have ten seconds to give me a _really_ good reason why you decided to turn me into a _vampire,_ or I am going to go fetch Stormbreaker.” And there was no need to mention the weapon was currently in pieces, was there?

“The Avengers figured out how to reverse most of Thanos’s effects,” said Loki, speaking low and quick. “Those taken by the snap of the Gauntlet. They could not, however, bring back those who had died by more conventional means.”

“Five seconds,” said Thor.

“They couldn’t bring you back, Thor.”

“Three sec—” Thor broke off. He could feel his face going slack with shock. “Did I … are you saying I died? During the final battle?”

Loki met his gaze steadily; only his hands twisting together in his lap betrayed his agitation. “There was only one way back for me, after Thanos …” He gave a little shrug, and Thor did not miss the shiver that went through him with the motion. “And there was only one way back for you, too. Because you were _gone,_ Thor.”

“All are meant to die. Even us.” Thor kept his voice level. “Could you not have let me go?”

Loki’s newly-black eyes glittered in his face, but the set of his mouth was sad. “And what of me? Would you rather I had stayed dead this time?” 

Thor winced. “That’s not fair at all. I’ve lost you three time –”

“And every time you thought me dead – or knew it to be so – I lost you, too.” Loki shook his head. “I was not willing to do it again, Brother. Not now. I made you a promise. It was one I intended to keep.”

“Oh, _Loki,_ ” Thor sighed, unable to put his exasperation, frustration, and affection any other way. Then, in spite of himself, he felt his mouth twitch upward. “If I remember your exact words, there was talk of the two of us standing beneath the sunlight once more. If I know my Midgardian legends, that’s not likely to happen anytime soon, is it?”

“I can’t claim to have worked out the kinks of this plan entirely,” Loki admitted. “There may be a bit of a learning curve.”

“So – no going out in the daytime.”

“No.”

“And, we have to … find a supply of … nourishment.” Thor was not quite ready to say the word _blood._ His stomach still seemed to roil every time he thought of the flask from the previous hour – even as the growing thirst in his throat told him he would have to start fully accepting the idea sooner rather than later.

“I’ve got that covered for now,” said Loki. When Thor gave him a suspicious look, he said hastily, “Not like _that._ I’ve found several blood banks in the vicinity with less-than-ideal security. Well, less than ideal for them.”

“We are in the aftermath of a war,” Thor pointed out. “I’m thinking now is not a great time to be depleting the humans’ supply.”

“We can get buy with a bag or two a month if we supplement with blood from other creatures. It’ll finally give us a chance to put to good use all that time we spent being drug out by Father on hunting trips.”

“I _liked_ those hunting trips.”

“Good,” said Loki, promptly coming to his feet. “I daresay you must be thirsty again; it’s a bit rough going for those newly turned. Now, c’mon. There’s a forest not far from here, and deer blood has turned out to be quite a favorite of mine …”

* * * * *

“ _How_ long until I get used to this?” asked Thor.

It had been a full week since that night when he’d woken up on the battlefield, a full week since he had left behind an old life and entered … whatever this was. A new life? An _un_ -life? He did not know what to call it. Did not know how to think of it.

Luckily – or unluckily, depending on one’s view – there were some practical considerations to distract him. 

Loki glanced up from where he was crouched beside the fresh carcass. They had gone out hunting every night at Loki’s insistence, despite the fact that Loki had built up a small reserve of blood from human blood banks and his own solitary hunts. 

“It took me several months,” Loki said, considering the newly killed stag stretched out before them. “I expect you’ll do about the same. It’s not really _so_ different from our old hunting trips, is it?”

“The part where we drink the blood of our prey straight from the neck is kind of a new development.”

Loki shrugged. “You’re newly turned. Fresh blood is best. Trust me, you’ll adjust. Besides, there’s a lot of raw instinct to get used to. Better to take out any unexpected aggression on a deer or coyote than one of the humans.”

“Mmm.” Thor was trying not to look at the still-warm body of the stag, trying not to think about the raw joy there had been in sinking his fangs into its neck. Trying not to think about the thirst that was building up in the back of his throat. The quick taste he’d gotten when they’d brought the animal down had not been enough. 

Thor was no vegetarian, but he liked animals. He’d certainly hunted them before, but always with arrow or spear, ensuring they suffered as short a time as possible. This …

“There’s no sense in putting off the inevitable,” said Loki. He stood, then gestured down at the carcass at his feet. “Have a drink.”

Thor glared at him. “Don’t change the subject. We need to talk about this. This isn’t _right._ It’s needless and cruel.”

His brother raised an eyebrow, and grinned in a way that was probably meant to be teasing – but all Thor saw was the glibness of it. The _flippancy._ “You never had a problem with hunting before.”

“ _This,_ ” Thor snarled, jolting forward, sending Loki a step back, “ _Is not the same._ ” He gritted his teeth, feeling the rage uncoiling inside his chest. “ _Nothing_ is the same. What we are? What have you made us into, Loki? Are we even alive?”

Loki held his arms loosely at his sides, his chin down, his eyes watching Thor. Waiting, Thor realized, to see what his brother was going to do. “We –”

“No! We are not alive. We aren’t –” Thor laughed hollowly. “We are not even Asgardians any more. Nor ourselves. We are something else. Something … wrong.”

Loki gave a little shrug. “I am not Asgardian, Brother. I never was. Perhaps that’s why this doesn’t bother me the way that it –”

“You were, Loki.” Thor jabbed a finger. “You were Asgardian and Jotun both. Don’t try to claim otherwise. You accepted yourself, what you were. _Who_ you were. As had I! Or – or at least I was starting to. And now? Now all of that is over. Because _we_ are over. Doomed to a half-life where we feed off of innocents. The universe is recovering from untold loss, and how can we help? We are _parasites._ ”

He stopped, breathing hard, and only then did he become aware of his hands clutched tightly into fists at his side. He turned and took a few steps away, sitting heavily on a slanted log that had fallen to the forest floor. Loki was watching him still, but his expression had changed, and Thor had to drop his gaze from the apology he saw written in his brother’s face. 

“Thor –” Loki began anyway. “Brother, I – I am so sorry. I didn’t – I shouldn’t –”

Thor held up a hand, silencing him. “No. I didn’t … I should not have said those things. Well,” he amended, “I should not have said the things where I blamed you. This is not your doing. I mean,” he held up a hand as Loki opened his mouth to speak, “The aftermath may be your doing. But the need for it was not. Defeating Thanos exacted a price on everyone who faced him.” He turned to face Loki, looking his brother squarely in the eye – but Thor’s voice had gentled. “You know that better than most, Brother.”

Loki looked down; unconsciously, his hand came up to massage the sides of his throat. When he spoke, his voice was subdued. “I had no right to force this new life on you. You were never given a choice –”

“How often are we given a choice?” Thor chuckled. “As often as not, Fate unfolds as it will.” 

“You know I’ve never quite believed that.” Loki walked over to join his brother on the fallen log. “And I’m not quite convinced you do, either.”

Thor chuckled in spite of himself. The sound was slightly hollow, but it came out all the same. “That’s a good point. After all, you did cheat Death yet again – this time, for both of us.”

“It is rather my style,” Loki agreed. He looked at his brother out of the corner of his eye. “I – I did what I thought was best, Thor. I’m sorry if I chose wrongly.”

“I know,” said Thor softly. “For what it’s worth? I don’t think you did.”

“But, everything you just said –”

“I know what I said, and it’s true.” Thor folded his hands and leaned forward, staring out at the deer carcass. “Becoming a draugr – a vampire – it would not have been my first choice. But it is better than death. Because there must be a way we can still help those that need it. There must be a way we can still be _ourselves._ ”

“And,” said Loki, squaring his shoulders, “There must be a way I can keep my promise.”

For the first time that evening, Thor smiled a bit. “What promise is that?”

But Loki was already standing, gesturing for Thor to follow him. “Later. Plenty of time for that later. For now? Let’s get back to dinner before it gets cold.”

“ _Loki,_ ” sighed Thor, but he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Loki grinned, his shoulders finally relaxing, and Thor knew his brother understood that he’d been forgiven. That they were all right.

Because, Thor realized, it was true. They were all right.

They just had to figure out what to do next.


	3. Chapter 3

Deciding what to do with one’s un-life, Thor found, was more difficult than he might have suspected.

Thanks to the Valkyrie, the remaining refugee Asgardians had been able to make their way to Earth. With the life toll from the snap of the Gauntlet undone, the Midgardians were left with much smaller losses than previously supposed – and they were not currently predisposed to being ungenerous. Thor was able to successfully arrange an agreement with the government of Norway, allowing the Asgardians to settle in the place Odin had found for them before the coming of Ragnarok. 

It had been Thor who had insisted that he and Loki reveal to the people what they now were, and while Loki had offered the requisite token resistance, he had not put up all that much of a fuss. The truth of the matter was that it was not anything they could truly hide, not with their frequent hunting trips, inability to set foot into daylight, and, most of all, the new impossibility of entering a building without an invitation. This last one had resulted in a very embarrassing start to a formal dinner with the Wakanda delegation, although fortunately Princess Shuri had been at turns amused and fascinated by their explanation, and had peppered them with questions for so long that they quite forgot to get around to actually discussing the trade agreement that had brought them together in the first place.

The Asgardian people themselves had been nothing but grateful to both their king and their prince since the coming of Ragnarok. No matter who was questioned, all insisted that Thor’s status as a draugr did nothing to dissuade them from supporting him. And yet Thor noticed the stares, the whispers, the uncomfortable silences and the uncomfortable conversations – though everyone (and Thor loved them for this) tried so hard to hide it from him. But it was clear having draugar within their midst – as their ruler and his right-hand advisor, no less – was hard on them. 

And eventually, there were other, more practical concerns to be dealt with.

“This isn’t going to go well,” said Thor one morning. He and Loki were making their daily rounds through the slowly-forming town square, stopping to speak with the workers and lending a hand where they could. Spring was beginning to take hold, and they were having to come out earlier and earlier to beat the coming of dawn.

Loki frowned, looking surprised. “I think progress is going quite well, actually. Especially when you take into consideration how long it’s taken us to get basic building supplies, not to mention the number of people we have available to –”

“Not the town. Us. _We_ aren’t going to go well.” Thor stopped in the street, grasping Loki’s arm to bring him to a halt. “We’ve been aided by the long nights up till now. What are we going to do when the daylight lasts twenty hours a day? A leader can’t keep office hours from two to four in the morning.”

Loki’s expression did not change. “You’ve been thinking about this already,” said Thor.

“Of course I have.” Now Loki looked mildly affronted. “I got us into this mess; I was hoping to find a way out.”

“Hoping?” said Thor, a trifle sadly.

“I do have a solution.” Loki hesitated. “Well. More like a suggestion.”

Thor crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

“Half the year, you continue as New Asgard’s leader,” said Loki. “The other half, you leave the ruling in the capable hands of your council. Led by the Valkyrie and Sif, at my official recommendation as your advisor, although of course you may also consider putting the matter of ruling council to a vote. Though I daresay they both would win handily.”

“Interesting,” said Thor. It was more than that, actually: it was a damn good idea. Thor was pretty thoroughly over the idea of royalty, and the council already had direct control over many of the day-to-day decisions, as well as larger issues, that affected their people. And most decisions were put to a popular vote, anyway. He was certain that the Valkyrie and Sif – and whoever else the people might choose – would be capable of acting fully in his stead. More than capable. “Where does this leave us, however? Catching up on our reading for six months?”

“Not quite.” Loki twirled his wrist, and something long and slender manifested in his hand. He tossed it to Thor, who caught it in bemusement.

“A dagger?” The weight was all wrong, but it was so unexpected it took him a moment. “A _wooden_ dagger.”

“Not all of Midgard’s monsters have adopted our _live-and-let-live_ attitude to our fellow citizens,” said Loki. “Quite a few spend their nights hunting the humans like prey.”

Thor’s mouth twitched. “So, your suggestion is for us to – ?”

“To moonlight as slayers,” said Loki. “If you’ll pardon the pun.”

* * * * *

Their first attempt nearly ended in disaster.

They had made their way from Norway to Denmark and then on to Germany, where they had heard rumors of tourists turning up mutilated on the edges of the Black Forest. With some short-order detective work, they’d traced the culprit back to Stuttgart; Thor could tell, from the way Loki’s face and voice had tightened, that it would not have been his brother’s first choice of where to go next. But to Loki’s credit, he had never been anything but insistent that they make their way to the rumored safehouse where the vampire in question was rumored to be.

Vampire, singular. 

“Loki,” said Thor, as conversationally as he could manage, “I thought you said there was _one_ of them.”

“There was supposed to be,” said Loki weakly, surveying the half dozen figures forming a loose circle around them. They hadn’t even made it into the house yet; they were standing instead on the property behind, surrounded by dry fountains and broken gray-stone statues and overgrown, half-wild hedges. The cabal of vampires had emerged from all sides before they’d made it halfway to the manor – a building that had probably once been beautiful, before the destruction of the War had brought much of it crumbling.

Which, Thor had to admit, had probably put their attackers in something of a mood.

“Are you sure they’re all vampires?” Thor stage-muttered to his brother. “They look like … like a hipster biker gang. D’you reckon the leather gloves are an official theme they’ve got going?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” hissed the apparent leader, a woman with dark skin and dark eyes and a beautiful blood-red jacket. The woman herself was beautiful, even given the glistening fangs she was baring in apparent joy at the brothers. “Now, care to tell us why you’re here? Is it to steal our territory? Or are you trying to join the gang? We’re going to rip you to pieces either way,” she added conversationally. “But I thought, as a matter of interest, you might like to share.”

“We’re here about the bodies turning up in the forest.” Thor gave his best _I really would be happy if we can stay cordial but that ball is entirely in your court_ smile. “Is that you?”

“What do you care?” This from the vampire on the woman’s left, a short, slender man with a face that looked to have been twisted by rage and hatred long before he’d been turned. “What, were one of ‘em a family member of yours or something?”

“I care,” said Thor, “Because such acts are needless and cruel, and we would like very much for them to stop.”

Most of the crowd exchanged amused glances that bordered on just a touch of bewilderment. Then the leader began to laugh. The rest of the pack followed – save for the woman standing at the edge of the circle. She was short but had clearly been strong even before her turning, her arms and legs thick and muscular. Her hair was swept back into a heavy braid, and her face was lined with a dawning shock.

“Guys,” she murmured, as if unable to believe her own voice. “Guys, don’t you see who they _are?_ ”

But the rest either didn’t hear her or were ignoring her. “Who are you to tell us how to hunt?” The leader took a step towards them, her fangs extending, her fingers hooking like claws at her side. “You reek of being newly turned. What know you of those of us who are ancients? We have been a family for five hundred years.”

Thor couldn’t help it; he began to laugh. The leader scowled. “Are you trying to anger us?”

“No,” said Thor, grinning at her. “But – a five-hundred-year-old family? Please. Get back to me after the first millennium. That’s when those little pet peeves get really unbearable.”

“Brother,” said Loki, watching as the circle around them tightened, “Perhaps we really shouldn’t be winding them up?”

“ _Guys,_ ” said the woman at the edge of the circle, her voice growing urgent. “I think we better –”

“Look, we’ll make this simple,” said Thor. “Either you are going to promise to leave the humans alone – and keep to that promise – or we are going to have to stop you.”

“You may try,” said the leader, jerking her head in a nod. 

At her signal, four of the vampires leapt forward. Two launched forward towards Thor, and it was not so much their speed that alarmed him, but the sheer ferocity of the attack. He sidestepped the one whose angle suggested that she was intending to tear out his throat – but this backed him up into the outstretched claws of his other attacker, crouched at his feet, who grasped onto Thor’s ankle and twisted. Thor stumbled, going down hard and feeling the sudden alarming snap of his own bone, though the sensation was not so much pain as a kind of mild irritation.

Still, he was suddenly crouching on one good leg, balancing himself precariously on the broken shards of his other foot. He stood up again with a lurch, backing away from his approaching attacker, and pulled out the long wooden dagger from its hilt at his side. His opponent saw the weapon and his eyes widened in wounded shock.

“Slayer!” he cried. “You came here not to negotiate but to kill your own!”

“Honestly, we were happy to go with either option.” Thor aimed a swipe at the other’s chest – only to be suddenly jerked backwards as the woman behind sank her fangs into his shoulder.

“Dammit,” he said, almost conversationally, as he swung an arm back, trying to knock her off of him. The angle was wrong, so he dropped to one knee and swung forward, flipping her over his shoulder. He came up into a defensive crouch, weight on his good leg, wooden dagger at the ready. When he heard the sound of rustling motion behind him, he swung around and plunged the dagger forward, hoping for the best. 

“Gotta _aim,_ son,” laughed the man, snapping off the wooden hilt from where it had stuck uselessly into his forearm, and tossing the pieces aside. “Not too good at this, are you?”

“Well,” said Thor, backing up as the man began to advance towards him, “I have had an awful lot of fights. But the rules are a lot different when you’re fighting someone who really can’t –”

The sound of a cry startled him. He turned to see Loki falling back from his own opponents, his hand grasping at one shoulder, from which wisps of smoke were curling into the night air. 

“Silver weapons, Brother!” Loki called out, even as he conjured fresh wooden daggers into each hand, wincing at the motion. “Don’t let them touch you.”

Thor felt his already cold blood turn to ice. He whirled back at his attackers, only to see them both holding long silver blades in their gloved hands. They were grinning wildly.

“Now who’re the traitors?” Thor raised an eyebrow. “Though I suppose at least the gloves make sense now.”

The woman sneered at him. “It pays to be prepared. You don’t survive by being weak. It’s a harsh and cruel world out there.”

“It can be,” agreed Thor, and then swung the dagger towards her heart. But his broken ankle gave way beneath him, and he stumbled again, falling heavily to one knee. A silver dagger flashed down, and he rolled out of the way – hissing as the metal caught the side of his temple, dragging a scorched-edge cut into his flesh.

He lurched to his feet, watching his opponents sneer and edge their way closer, and darted a glance towards his brother. Loki’s wooden daggers were slashing almost too quickly for even Thor’s vampiric eyesight to follow, and yet each slash and thrust was countered with apparent ease by his opponent’s silver blades. The man was slowly backing Loki up towards the leader – who was grinning, her claws and fangs out and ready, Thor realized, to simply tear Thor’s brother to pieces.

“Well!” said Thor cheerfully, dropping the wooden daggers to rub his hands together. “Quite enough of this then, thank you very much.”

Loki suddenly whipped his head to stare over at Thor, and was very nearly sliced through the heart for his trouble. “Thor, I don’t think you should –”

“Still am who I’ve always been, Brother!” called Thor, the crackling energy beginning to build over his hand. So long, it had been so long since he’d called his lightning to him, and he supposed later that it was the thrill of it, the _rightness,_ that caused him to ignore the cold burning sensation that flowed over his skin along with the electricity. 

Then he raised his hand and _reached._

The bolt of lightning tore from his chest white-hot, rippling outward with a crack so powerful the air itself seemed rent apart. Thor’s own scream was drowned out by the roar of the thunder, the crash rolling outward with the strands of roiling power.

His head was splitting apart. His vision was suddenly tilted and blurred; he thought he saw shadowy figures on the edge of his periphery collapse into themselves, but it was nearly impossible to see. It was hard to hear, too, over the sound of ringing in his ears. Was someone shouting at him?

“ _You absolute_ oaf _!_ ” Ah. At least he’d been able to save Loki. That was something, then.

“Sorry, Brother,” Thor mumbled, or tried to, but he couldn’t seem to talk over the ashes in his mouth. 

Everything was growing hazy and indistinct, the yawning blackness rising up to envelop and engulf. His head was breaking apart, his limbs turning to dust as surely as had those who had fallen during the war with Thanos. And above it all, oh, the most indescribable thirst ...

It was the thirst that seemed to pull him back from some fathomless brink. His body ached, his skin was burning – but it was the thirst that was driving him mad, the need for enough nourishment that he could heal what had happened to him.

“Thor?” Loki, of course. Always Loki. Except his voice sounded odd; almost muffled. “Brother, I don’t … I don’t know what to do. What can I do?”

“Thirsty,” Thor managed, nearly choking on the word against the dryness in his throat. He thought he heard Loki say something else – but then he was drifting again, and it was almost a relief, because perhaps it would at least soothe the pain of his throat.

And then, suddenly, the taste of blood was in his mouth. He did not understand from where, and for one horrible moment he was struck by the idea that perhaps Loki had found some poor unsuspecting human to … but no, that was not his brother now. Relieved, assured, Thor allowed himself to drink, until the ache in his throat had eased and the pain in his head had lessened.

When at last he was able to force his eyes open and get them to focus clearly, he turned to see Loki sitting beside him. His brother’s face was drawn, his normally pale skin now an ashen gray. He was clutched an unstopped bottle in his hand – ah, so that’s where the blood had come from; Thor felt a twinge of abashment for having even momentarily doubted – and Loki’s black eyes were glittering with what Thor would’ve sworn were unshed tears.

“Brother?” Loki’s voice broke on the single word. 

“You all right?” Thor asked him by way of answer. Loki blinked, then managed a wobbly laugh.

“Am _I_ all right? You’re the one that nearly burns himself to ash, and you ask me if _I’m_ all right?” Loki shook his head, the hollows of his cheeks starkly pronounced in his gray face. “I’m fine. But you’re – I thought you were –”

“You don’t look fine.” Thor attempted to sit upright, only to feel the world tilt alarmingly underneath him. Who knew vampires could get dizzy?

Loki thrust out a hand and pushed him back down. “You’ve effectively taken care of the enemy,” he said. “So take your time and take it easy.”

Thor allowed himself to be eased back. “We won?”

Loki made a noise that was probably supposed to sound like a chuckle. “You won, yes. I don’t know that I was much help. Although, I might add that ‘won’ is a bit of an understatement. Apparently lightning has an effect on vampires similar to that of sunlight. It makes sense, when you think about it. A bolt of lightning is five times hotter than the surface of Midgard’s star.” His voice had become more assured – but there was something not quite right about his tone, something off. Loki was also, Thor realized, not quite meeting his gaze.

“I do have one question,” said Thor, and watched as Loki visibly braced himself. _Right._ He’d proceed with care, then. “How did I manage to keep from incinerating you in the process? Did you duck out of the line of fire?”

It clearly wasn’t the question Loki had been expecting, and it took him a moment to reorganize before he could answer. “I did nothing. It simply did not touch me.”

“Glad to know it obeyed me that much, at least.” Thor quirked a smile. Loki looked at him with a puzzled expression. “My lightning. It mayn’t have been smart enough to keep from frying _me,_ but at least it didn’t go after you.”

“Thor –”

“Well. No more doing that again.” Thor tried to keep his voice light, but Loki’s face, already drawn, visibly fell.

“I’m sorry, Brother. I’m – I’m so sorry.” Loki’s voice was a rasp in his throat. He turned the empty bottle over and over between his palms, his gaze lowered. “It seems this trick of mine was poorly thought out, indeed.”

“Loki, you couldn’t have foreseen this.” Thor reached out a shaky hand and gave Loki’s wrist a squeeze. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“No. Not the end of the world. Just the end of something you love. Something that makes you _you._ ” Loki looked up, his eyes so heartsick that Thor had to fight the urge to pull him into a hug then and there. “I ... I never dreamed the lightning would be one of the prices you’d have to pay for this. I can only imagine what that feels like. If I were to lose my magic …”

“Then you’d find a way to make the best of it, and enhance your other considerable talents to aid you in fighting fights and making mischief.” Thor arched a tired eyebrow. “Unless you’re implying I’m useless without my lightning.”

“Hardly. You know I think you useless either way.” The joke came out tentatively, and when Thor chuckled, Loki visibly brightened, if only a little. “I’ll find us a way through this, Brother. You know I will.”

“I know,” said Thor. “Though I suppose I’d be wasting my unnecessary breath by trying to tell you I’m all right. We both are.”

Loki gave him a somewhat wan smile. “You can try, Brother. But don’t think I’ll forget.”

“Forget what?”

“My promise.”

“What promise?” Thor asked, bewildered, but then Loki was coming into a crouch beside him.

“Later. Right now, let’s go …” The word _home_ died half-spoken on his lips. Loki hesitated, then managed, “… somewhere safe. We can figure out our next move.”

“And find a decent snack.”

“That too.” Loki’s smile was shadowed, but no less mischievous. “I hear the hospital just down the road has the most _marvelous_ blood bank.”

* * * * *

They took shelter in the very estate of the fallen vampire clan – not something they had planned, but an idea which made absolute sense once they’d given it some thought. They could be relatively certain no one would be able to trace the missing hikers back to the clan’s base of operations; only a fellow supernatural creature would recognize the clues, and it seemed unlikely that any would bother searching. The aftereffects of the war were still felt planetwide; few had the time to bother.

And time was something they had, now. It was taking Thor time to recover. He had effectively burned himself from the inside out, and that was not an injury from which one could easily heal.

Still, the incident had done nothing to deter him from the original idea. If anything, he seemed positively galvanized. 

“I think we can do some real good, Brother,” he said to Loki one night, as they sat down to dinner in the small hours before dawn. Loki had been going out alone for some weeks now, and while he would’ve preferred Thor take another week or two to fully recover, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his brother dissuaded for much longer. 

“I’m sure we can,” said Loki carefully, as he twisted the mug back and forth between his palms. “But –”

“It’s been so frustrating.” Thor was sitting on the edge of the low sofa in the sitting room, tapping a spoon against the edge of his mug. The interior of the house looked far better than it had when they’d first arrived, thanks to their joint ministrations, but it was still a far cry from the bright, cozy home they shared in Asgard. “To finally be able to _do_ something again, to help –”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve been helping our people since we built New Asgard.”

“I’ve also been making our people feel deeply uncomfortable since we built New Asgard.” Thor gave a grimace, and gestured at the fangs the expression revealed.

“It’s only been, what – three months? Four?” Loki waved a dismissive hand. “They’ll get used to it.”

“It’s been six, and I don’t know that they will. And that’s beside the point.” Thor set down both spoon and mug, then leaned towards Loki with his elbows on his knees. “I’m not about to turn my back on duty or obligation to our people – you know me better than that. But this is just … what I’ve needed. What I’ve _wanted._ To be able to protect people, our people and Midgard’s. To do something more to safeguard them.”

“If this is your way of heaping penance upon yourself for not single-handedly bringing about the destruction of Thanos the moment he set foot on the _Statesman_ –”

“It’s not,” said Thor, then quirked a half-smile at Loki’s raised eyebrow. “Well. Not completely. No, it’s more than that, Loki. It’s a chance to be a hero again. Even while being a monster.”

“Well,” said Loki lightly, “I suppose I of all people can understand that.” 

Thor looked suddenly stricken. “I didn’t mean – don’t you dare think! –”

“I don’t, Brother,” said Loki, reaching out to give Thor’s wrist a squeeze. And the grin he gave Thor was tired, but still with that warmth and assurance that he’d found since that fateful in the Grandmaster’s garage. “I simply meant to assure you that I understand the need … to put something right.”

* * * * *

As the weeks went by, the tales began to spread.

The stories conflicted wildly, as all such stories do. A special task force, put together by the remnants of SHIELD, to take on inexplicable cases. Masters of the Mystic Arts who had discovered shards of the Infinity Stones and were using them to battle the forces of darkness. Rogue aliens, who had been left behind in the aftermath of the war and had devoted themselves to fighting the sorts of creatures that even the Avengers could not.

The last was the closest to the truth, of course. Funnily enough, the one story that did not gain much traction was that Thor, the god of thunder, had joined forces with his chaotic mischief-maker of a brother to battle their fellow supernatural beings – the ones, that was, who meant to do harm.

“I’m not exactly looking to be recognized,” said a perplexed Thor, having spent the last ten minutes being fawned over by a willowy older woman who had thanked them both profusely for saving her dog from being torn to pieces by a local werewolf pack. “But isn’t it odd that _nobody_ seems to notice that we’re running around doing this? We got kind of … _known_ on this planet, between New York and Sokovia.”

“They don’t expect to see us here,” said Loki, grimacing as he regarded the fur the woman’s dog had left all over his black suit jacket. “So they don’t see us. Don’t recognize us. Also, it’s … possible … that I’ve started casting the slightest glamour to encourage our faces to remain unrecognized.”

He’d pretended to be absorbed in brushing fur from his jacket, but he’d braced himself as he watched Thor out of the corner of his eye, and was relieved when his brother sighed in something very akin to relief. “That’s as it should be, Brother. Thank you.”

Most of the supernatural beings of Midgard were as preoccupied with rebuilding their lives (or unlives) as anyone else, and those creatures the brothers left in peace. But there were also creatures of magic and mysticism who saw the struggling of those around them as an opportunity to prey upon the weaker, and those were the creatures that Thor and Loki took upon themselves to challenge, threaten, cajole, and fight into leaving the humans alone. There were also no few occasions where they discovered a peaceable and harmless creature of the night being vilified and threatened by a cruel and dispassionate human, and then the brothers made it known that such cruelty would also not be accepted.

So, in the end, they protected all those they could, because all that mattered was the chance to protect. To do some good. Because that, as Thor was so fond of grinning at his brother, that was what heroes _did._

And Loki was proud. Proud, to be defending instead of attacking. To be building something up, instead of tearing it down. Proud, most of all, to be standing beside his brother once more. As the months turned to one year, and then two – and then ten – it was no longer the time they spend in New Asgard that seemed like home. It was the nights he and Thor spent beyond those borders, protecting those who could not protect themselves, and doing it together. A team, once more.

But it was still not quite enough. Not yet.

* * * * *

They’d been at it some two decades when Loki made up his mind. He had a promise to keep, after all.

“Not bad for our last night of the year, was it?” Thor was grinning as they returned to their current residence – a small basement apartment they’d found in Brooklyn, and which had proven a most satisfactory base of operations for the last several months. “I think this is the first time we’ve saved a human from a vampire and a vampire from a Hunter in the same night.”

“I didn’t care for that Hunter,” said Loki, absently drumming his fingers against the kitchen counter, watching as his brother rummaged in the small refrigerator to retrieve their last two bags of blood. 

“As corrupt as they come,” agreed Thor, shutting the refrigerator door and carrying the bags to the counter. “That vampire she was after hadn’t attacked a single person in all her centuries. Not one.”

“Yes, well, I suspect her Hunting days are over.” Loki couldn’t help but smile, remembering the look of terror that had been on the Hunter’s face when he’d illusioned an army of snakes to surround her. It was simply amazing to him how many Midgardians did not care for the wonderful creatures. 

“We did let her off with a pretty clear warning.” Thor grinned in return, reaching into the cabinet to pull out two glasses. “You’ll have to tell the Valkyrie that you’ve finally put your snake-conjuring skills to noble use.”

“… actually,” said Loki softly, “You’ll have to tell her for me, Brother.”

Thor turned to look at him, and when Loki saw his brother’s face, he felt some of the tension ease out of him, replaced with a gentle sadness. There was no reason, he saw now, to dread telling Thor what he needed to tell him.

Because Thor already knew.

“You’re not back coming with me,” said Thor, and it was not a question.

“No,” said Loki sadly. “No, I’m not.”

“You know you are still welcome in New Asgard, by all of our people,” began Thor, but Loki held up a hand to stop him.

“I know. Of course, I know. It’s not about our people. It’s not – it’s –” and here Loki hesitated, desperate to explain, uncertain he could find the words. “I ... I have something more I need to do. And I can’t do it from New Asgard. Not yet.”

Loki watched as Thor considered this, watched as Thor clearly debated whether to press Loki for more. But then, at last, Thor turned back to the counter, plucked up the blood-filled glasses, and handed one to his brother.

“Then do what you need to do. And remember you can come home when you are ready.” Thor’s smile was sad, but it was a smile all the same, and Loki felt an unexpected surge of gratitude.

“Thank you, Brother.” Then Loki raised his glass. “To brighter days.”

“To brighter days,” agreed Thor, and they clinked their glasses together, and drank.

* * * * *

The years passed. Loki visited, at first – and then he did not, and he did not lie to himself as to what slowly but inexorably kept him away. He was undeniably busy, for when he was not searching the world for the answers he sought, he continued to help and defend those he could.

(Savior of Midgard, after all. Who would’ve expected it?)

It was other things that kept him away. Guilt? Perhaps. Determination? Assuredly.

And his promise, of course. Always, his promise.

* * * * *

Loki knocked.

There was a slight pause. “It’s unlocked,” said Thor’s voice then, from inside, and though the sound of it was muffled, Loki could hear him grinning all the same.

Loki glared daggers at the door. “You know –” he said icily, though he could not keep the corners of his mouth from twitching, as hard as he tried, “You know perfectly _well_ that I cannot come in without an invitation. You ass.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” said Thor – still muffled, still grinning.

There was another pause, and then Loki spoke again, almost conversationally. “I could point out that it’s been a long trip and I’m hungry and you probably shouldn’t be winding me up just now.”

A snort from behind the door. “As if you’d ever stoop so low as to eat _me._ You’re going to have to come up with better threats.” Then the door was swinging open and there was Thor, beaming such joy that it almost brought color to his bone-white face. Years, Loki realized. It had been years since he’d been here. “Welcome home, Brother.”

“Always glad to come back,” said Loki, stepping inside, then dropped his case and threw his arms around his brother. Thor hugged him tight in return, and, for a moment – for just a moment – no time had passed between them. 

“C’mon,” said Thor, pulling back from the embrace, and Loki pretended not to see him swipe at his good eye with the back of one hand. “Leave your coat and case by the door; we’ll deal with them later. I knew you’d be hungry, so I put out a spread.”

“What do you mean, you put out a –” Loki saw the bronze tray, arrayed with assorted glasses and bowls, perched on the low table before the sofa, and couldn’t help but grin. “Well. To think you went to all this trouble.”

Thor swung an arm around Loki’s shoulder. “Well, when one’s only brother can only be bothered to visit once or twice a decade, you make the effort.”

It was meant teasingly, and there was nothing but warmth and affection in Thor’s good eye, but Loki felt something in his chest lurch. Surely it could not be his heart, dead and unbeating all these centuries. He could think of nothing to say, and so offered a hesitant smile as he took his seat before the tray.

He took a few moments to mull over the undeniably pleasing selection, and had just chosen was smelled like a cupful of deer’s blood (one of his favorites) when he heard Thor make a slight choking sound. Loki looked over, alarmed, only to see his brother fighting back a grin.

“What?” Loki arched a brow.

Thor gestured a hand towards Loki’s black suit jacket and slacks. “Still dressing like a witch, I see.”

“Witch, nothing. Don’t you think I ought to dress the part?” Loki grinned, sipping from the goblet and momentarily closing his eyes. “Oh, that is lovely.” He looked over at Thor, who was still standing nearby, beaming. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

Thor shook his head. “Drank earlier, thanks. It’s all yours.”

Loki gave a half smile, feeling somewhat awkward, if genuinely touched by all the fuss Thor had gone to. He drank again, enjoying the tepid warmth sliding down his throat, then gestured to his brother. “I see you’ve gone back to the eyepatch.”

“The gift from the rabbit burned out a few decades ago.”

“Surely the Midgardians have the technology to replace it now?”

“Almost certainly, but this seemed more fitting.” Thor’s hand traced underneath the patch. “Helps me remember Father, I think.”

And there it was, that inexplicable twist in Loki’s chest again. Dead hearts, it seemed, still had plenty in them to feel. Loki covered the moment by drinking against from the goblet, wiping daintily at his mouth with the green-embroidered handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket. The handkerchief came back streaked crimson. Then he hesitated, twisting the goblet around in his hands. He saw Thor’s good eye follow the motion and forced his hands to still.

 _I’m two thousand years old,_ he chided himself. _Too old for playing games – at least these sorts._

“As it so happens – I did come for a reason,” said Loki, and waited until Thor had sat beside him on the sofa. Then he raised his hand, twisting his wrist in a swirling gesture, and allowed the shining box to materialize in his palm. 

Thor propped an elbow on the arm of the sofa, resting his chin in his hand as he gazed at the box almost idly. “A clue to our next case, I take it? This one must be pretty serious if you’ve come all the way here to …” The expression on his face suddenly shifted. “Loki. Is that silver you’re holding?”

“It is,” said Loki, fighting to keep the grin on his face from growing too self-satisfied.

“How?” Thor breathed. “How are you holding silver, without it burning you?”

“I found it, Brother,” said Loki. “It took me these centuries of searching – and there were times I was so certain, so _certain_ it wasn’t there to be found. I thought perhaps it would be lost to Ragnarok, or snatched up by some Elder in some far-flung corner of the galaxy. I’d lost all hope it would be here on Midgard, or that I’d be able to find it –” 

“Loki.” Thor might’ve sounded impatient if he hadn’t been in such stunned surprise. “What _is_ it?”

“Open it.”

Thor reached out – hesitantly at first, touching the box swiftly as one might a hot stove – but when he remained unburned, he reached out and gently took the box from Loki’s hands. He opened it, looking inside, and then glanced up at Loki. Loki smiled encouragingly.

Frowning slightly, Thor reached inside the box and pulled out the tiny golden shield. No – not a shield. There was a wedge-shaped blade jutting out from its center.

“A sundial?” Thor traced the miniature runes carved into its surface. “It’s beautiful, Brother – but maybe not of such practical use to such as ourselves.”

“Oh, but it’s not just any sundial,” said Loki. “It’s the Talisman of Svalinn.” 

“Svalinn?” Thor grew thoughtful. “Isn’t that –”

“The name given to the shield of Sól.” Loki reached for the sundial, tapping the center rune. “The one who stands guard over the sun.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following.” Thor’s voice was indeed apologetic. “I mean, I’m _following,_ but I don’t think I quite understand why this is so –”

“I promised you, Brother,” said Loki, and he lowered his voice, for it was beginning to tremble slightly. “I promised you, all those centuries ago. It was not light reassurance or false hope. It was a _promise._ Do you remember?”

“You promised we would be all right.” Thor’s expression was beginning to change. “No. More than that. That the sun –”

“That the sun would shine on us.” Loki raised the talisman. “And now – for one day, Brother, for _one_ day – it will.”


	4. Chapter 4

“So you’ve really been looking for this talisman for – the whole time?” asked Thor. “All five centuries since we were Turned?”

They were sitting in the kitchen, the Talisman of Svalinn laid out on the table between them. Occasionally, Thor would reach out to trace the edge of it, as if reassuring himself it really was there. Loki understood the feeling.

“Not continuously,” Loki told him. “I still spent a fair amount of time chasing down monsters, you know.” 

“Yes, that I’ve heard about.” Thor looked up to raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve become something of a legend among the Midgardians.”

Loki blinked, surprised. “I have?”

“You know what they call you? ‘The savior of Midgard.’ Not my suggestion, I swear; they came up with it all on their own.” Thor grinned, but his good eye was filled with more pride than teasing. “They know who you are now.”

“A vampire?”

“A hero.”

For the first time since unveiling his surprise, Loki found himself unable to meet his brother’s gaze. He thought, at first, that it was in the usual embarrassment that hit him when his brother spoke with a smidge too much of sentiment – but then he heard himself say, “Suppose I got it from you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Thor smile, and he knew his brother did not quite understand. “I’m not about to take any credit here, Loki. The work you’ve done to help people – _all_ the work you’ve done, over the centuries, to change – that’s all been _you._ You. Not me.”

“Far be it from me to turn down credit.” Idly, Loki reached out a pale hand and traced the edge of the talisman. “But I wonder if you don’t miss it.”

“Me?” Thor blinked in surprise. “Miss what?”

“The chance to be a hero.” Loki set his folded arms on top of the table, looking at his brother earnestly. “You used to love it, Brother. Taking on monsters, protecting the innocent – saving the day.”

“I did,” said Thor softly. “I – I do. But New Asgard needs me more. Our people need me more. It’s been a few centuries now, Loki; what I am does not unsettle them as it once did. What _we_ are. I’ve learned to compensate for avoiding the sunlight – a few underground buildings and indoor diplomatic meetings. And traveling by night.” He hesitated. “Things are … different, now.”

“Oh,” was all Loki could say for a moment. He was momentarily baffled by his own disappointment. Did he _want_ his brother to be unhappy? He tried to pass the moment off lightly, as if it were of no concern to him. “So – don’t want to go back to protecting the innocents? Join me for a few months, out there in the world?”

Thor raised an eyebrow at him. “You could join me instead.”

“… What?”

“It’s been a bit hairy in New Asgard for the past few years; plenty of diplomatic issues. The borders really need to expand again and we’re getting some pushback. I could use my advisor back at my side.” He smiled at Loki. “If he’s ready to come back home.”

Loki shook his head. “You know what? Perhaps this isn’t the time for this conversation.”

“You brought it up,” Thor countered, though he was smiling.

Loki smiled back, drumming his fingers along the tabletop. “Yes, well. Perhaps my timing was ill-advised. Today is not the day for such serious conversations as this. Not when we have a trip to be planning. Where do you want to go, Brother? We’ve got one day to enjoy standing beneath the sun again, and I for one don’t intend to waste –”

And then Thor suddenly raised a hand to silence him, his expression tightening. For a moment, Loki found himself wondering what he’d said wrong – but then Thor was pressing a hand to his ear and speaking to whoever had called him. “I’m here, go ahead. … Right, you’re not – wait, slow down.” _The Valkyrie,_ he silently mouthed, and then, quite abruptly, his face went dark. 

“ _Shit,_ ” he muttered, and Loki started slightly. 

“What is it?” asked Loki.

Thor’s face was grim. “The city is under attack.” 

For a moment, Loki was almost too perplexed to feel anything else. “From _who?_ ”

“From vampires, of course. Who else?” Thor was already headed for the door. “C’mon, Brother. I wanted you home and you wanted me fighting? Looks like we’ll both get our wishes today.”

* * * * *

“We just wanted one day off,” Loki muttered. “ _One_ day. Was that too much to ask?”

“They did manage remarkably poor timing,” agreed Thor, peering out around the corner of the shop to take in the town square. “Who knows how long they’ve been planning this, though?”

In the center of the town stood a veritable vampire army – Loki had counted at least fifty when he and Thor had first arrived at the edge of the town square. The two of them were crouched behind the corner of a clothing shop, watching the jeering captors of a dozen frightened Asgardians threaten and leer over their prey. Thor had told an unhappy Valkyrie to keep her security teams back; she had made a halfhearted argument that the two of them would need all the help they could get, but the truth of the matter was that the hostages were in the hands of beings faster and tougher than both the Asgardians’ warriors and their weapons. And, as of yet, no one appeared to have been yet attacked – or bitten – so there was still time for Loki and Thor to put a stop to this.

Theoretically, anyway.

“I’ve wondered, that they’ve never attacked New Asgard before,” Thor was musing, still studying the crowd. “They must’ve known who we are for some time. So why now? Did they –”

“Outsider!” cried the apparent leader, a tall man with blood-red eyes that had Loki musing if there was some way he could possibly be of Jotun heritage. “For too long, we have turned a blind eye as you and your brother prey upon us, taking our lives one by one as you put the needs of lesser species above those of your own kind!”

Around him, the other vampires began to hiss and cry out their agreement. The small cluster of Asgardians in their center drew closer together, the adults doing their best to form a protective circle around the two older children who had also been captured.

“You have betrayed us, your true people!” the leader went on, bringing another roar of approval. “And the time for revenge is at hand!”

“Is he talking to us?” murmured Thor, his grip tightening on the blade in his hand. 

“He’s talking to _you,_ ” Loki realized. “He doesn’t know I’m here. No one does.” He darted a look over at Thor. “Any ideas?”

“Of course. We get in there and start swinging.” Thor hefted the sword at his side.

“I’m so sorry, Brother; I misspoke. What I meant to ask was: Any ideas that involve us actually having a fighting chance of succeeding?”

“There’s only fifty of them.”

“I really don’t know what to say to that.”

“You said I needed to spend more time protecting the innocent. I’m opting for the hands-on approach. Which, speaking of: they are going to start killing our people right in front of us if we don’t do something fast.”

That was undeniably true. The red-eyed vampire was stalking the length of the square now, and the brothers ducked behind the corner of the shop building to avoid being seen. 

“But I will show more mercy than you!” shouted the leader. “We come not to kill these people, but to Turn them! Perhaps, when more of your former people join our kind, you will come to see us not as the enemy, but as your friends. Your family!”

“At least they’re not here to kill them,” said Loki weakly. Thor glared at him.

“I would not wish this existence on anyone, Brother. Would you?”

That stung hard, though Loki knew Thor had not meant it to. He tried to keep his expression unchanging, but Thor must have seen something in his face, because his own gaze softened. “I didn’t mean –”

“We can argue later.” Loki dared a quick glance around the side of the building again, then grasped onto the uru pendant at his throat and yanked off the chain. “For now, Brother – do you trust me?”

Thor eyed him suspiciously. “Most of the time.”

“Good.” Loki shot him a feral grin. “Because I think I have an idea.”

* * * * *

“ _You._ ” The fangs the leader bared where larger and sharper than those of most vampires, putting Loki in mind of a snake. The thought annoyed him; he liked snakes. “We didn’t expect to see you here. The stories say you deserted your home long ago.”

Loki gave a smile that allowed his own fangs to gleam. “I was overdue for a visit.”

“Indeed.” The other looked past him, his eyes scanning the surrounding night. “Where is your king?”

“Thor? Honestly, don’t call him that; I’m still worried about it going to his head. And don’t expect to see Thor. Surely you wouldn’t think us foolish enough to send out both members of the monarchy at the same time, did you?”

“No matter, then. We can deal with him when we’re done with you. Your presence in an unexpected bonus.” The leader’s eyes were blazing red. “You have even more to answer for than he does.”

Behind him, the Asgardians were standing clustered together, the adults draping protective arms over the shoulders of the two children. Loki gave them all his best reassuring smile.

“It’s going to be all right,” he said, and looked past them to where the Valkyrie stood seething with her nearest security team. He gave her the smallest of nods, and even from the distance, he could see her face tighten – though she nodded in return, and raised a fist to signal her troops to fall further back.

“Don’t promise what you may not be able to deliver, Betrayer.” The leader snarled at him. Loki raised an eyebrow in return.

“I’m here. Isn’t that what you wanted? One of us here, to take your apparent vengeance upon?” Loki indicated the frightened cluster. “Let them go. You’ve gotten what you’ve come for.”

“Ah, ah, ah! Not so fast.” He flashed Loki a grin. “Your reputation proceeds you. We need to make certain you’ve no tricks up your sleeve.”

“Of course I do. That’s sort of my thing.” Loki spread his hands in a magnanimous gesture. “Though I don’t quite know what I’ve done to so offend you.”

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t know.” Loki shrugged. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Yes, my apologies! Allow me to introduce myself.” The red-eyed vampire gave a little bow. “Balthazar Brooks, at your service.”

“… Okay,” said Loki evenly. Behind the leader, he could see one of the Asgardians – a woman with long, raven-black hair – beginning to shift slightly, perhaps weighing her chances of making a break for it. Loki caught her eye and gave the barest of headshakes; she hesitated, then nodded in return. Loki turned his attention back to Balthazar. “I hope you aren’t making introductions for everyone. We’d be here awhile.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“I don’t think _any_ of this is necessary.” Loki indicated the crowd of vampires. “Let’s get on with it, then. What do you want with us? With me?”

“With you? Ah yes, with _you._ Two weeks ago, good sir --” Balthazar’s tone was calm, almost pleasant, though his red eyes were glowing and his fangs were glinting in the moonlight, “-- Just two weeks ago, you killed my sister.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” said Loki. “I’ve turned over a new leaf these past few centuries –”

“She had been a vampire for over a thousand years,” snarled Balthazar. “One of the greatest vampire queens in the history of our kind. She was doing no more than taking the blood she needed to survive – every vampire’s righteous claim! And you killed her with a pathetic sliver of white magic, as if she were a common human thug.”

“She was eating the innocent, you say? Yes, well – that _does_ kind of sound like me. My apologies.” Loki smiled sheepishly. “I don’t suppose there’s a way I could make it up to you?”

“Oh, you already have. I thought we were going to have to blackmail your brother into tracking you down. But you were kind enough to show up just in time for your sentence!” Balthazar nodded towards the ring of vampires. “Take him.”

Suddenly Loki was surrounded. He instinctively tried to back up, only to be met with the bared fangs of the creatures behind him. Instinctively, his hand went towards the wooden dagger at his side. “I really think you need to consider doing something to keep to your end of our bargain.”

“What bargain?” Balthazar folded his arms almost lazily across his chest. “I made no deal with you, Betrayer.”

“I showed myself so you would let these people go free,” said Loki, casting a desperate look towards the awaiting Asgardians in spite of himself, but Balthazar only chuckled.

“That was the threat, yes – but I made no agreement with you.” Balthazar waved his hand at the waiting people. “We will kill you now – slowly and painfully, of course – and still have plenty of time left over for a late evening meal. Don’t worry, though.” He stepped forward, shouldering through the knot of vampires to lean close and whisper in Loki’s ear. “We’ll Turn most of them. Only the children will die.”

In an instant, Loki reached out and grasped Balthazar by the throat. Almost as one, the vampire army began to surge towards them.

“Don’t,” said Loki harshly, his fingers digging into Balthazar’s windpipe – a futile endeavor, but one which made him feel better. He raised his other hand high, and in his palm glittered the shining uru locket.

With the single sunbeam trapped inside.

“Sunlight!” Loki sang out. “White magic! One and the same, is it not??” He turned to display the locket out towards them; the vampires backed away from it as if it were already aglow, dropping their eyes from their leader’s furious gaze. “I’ve killed a hundred of our kind with this power alone – Balthazar’s sister was merely the latest!” He pressed the pendant against Balthazar’s chest and had the satisfaction of feeling him flinch. “I’d be happy to make it a hundred and one.”

“You treacherous –” began Balthazar, but Loki tightened his grip effectively enough that the other could get no further words out.

“Considering what you were proposing, you can hardly blame me, can you?” Loki murmured to him, then raised his voice to address the crowd in its entirety. “All right, fellow vampires – here is what is going to happen! First, you are going to let the hostages pass unchallenged through your ranks! Once they are safe, I will begin my own retreat with Balthazar here in tow. Then, and only then, will I release him, and you’ll have the choice to leave quietly before any more –”

He got no further. A searing pain suddenly exploded beneath his shoulder, and Loki cried out, stumbling backwards, his hold on Balthazar slipping away, his arm suddenly so much deadweight at his side. He would’ve lost his grip on the uru pendant if the chain hadn’t been wrapped around his hand.

“Wh-what –” Loki began, then stumbled again, collapsing hard to his knees. The hand with the pendant came up to clutch at his shoulder, almost without his being aware of it. He’d been stabbed with something, that much was certain; what was surprising was how much it hurt. He’d been skewered with stakes and blades before – weapons aimed for his heart that, like this one, had not quite managed to make their mark – but never had it felt quite like this.

“A new silver alloy,” explained Balthazar, leaning down towards Loki with an almost sympathetic expression. Loki gritted his teeth, trying to rise to his feet, but he could hardly move and the attempt was short-lived. “Works most effectively, wouldn’t you say? Seraphina, thank you for the assist.” 

“My pleasure,” said a voice behind Loki, and then a woman was stepping out from around him, her spiky hair glinting gold in the warm glow of the streetlamps. “Sorry it took me a minute, my lord. This one doesn’t much let his guard down.”

“It’s all right,” said Balthazar. “I appreciate your aim. We wouldn’t want him gone just yet.” He reached down and unwrapped the chain around Loki’s hand, pulling away the uru pendant almost gently. Then he held it up towards the artificial light, turning it around in his hand to study it. “Fascinating. How _did_ you manage to achieve it?”

“I didn’t,” Loki ground out through gritted teeth. “It was a gift.”

“From who?” asked Balthazar. When Loki failed to answer, the other gave a little chuckle. “Yes, I suppose that would be expecting a bit much for you to tell us.”

“Where shall we kill him, my lord?” asked the vampire Seraphina. “Shall we just leave the blade in him until the sun comes up? That should be right painful enough.” Loki blinked rather hollowly up at her.

“You’ve … got … kind of a sadistic streak in you,” he managed, between shallow gasps. Drawing in breath made the pain flare, and if it wasn’t necessary for talking, he would’ve skipped breathing for the time being entirely.

Neither of them were paying him any attention. “It’s a fine plan, Seraphina. Have any of you any other suggestions?”

There was a low murmur as people seemed to consult with one another. And then, to one side, a voice cried out, “Why not kill him with his own treachery?”

“Yes!” roared another. “His own sunlight, my lord! Use the sunlight!”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t think of that,” Loki mumbled, glaring at the crowd and wincing. Balthazar glanced at him, then looked away, stroking his chin and appearing to consider.

“It will be a bit faster than I hoped,” he mused, “But I can’t deny it will have a pleasing sort of justice. All right!” He clapped his hands. “But perhaps we should Turn the hostages before we kill him. Let him die knowing his people are now _ours._ What do you say?”

It was the wrong thing to say. With a snarl, Loki lurched to his feet, then dove at Balthazar. Not expecting this, the red-eyed vampire stumbled back, his hands coming up instinctively to claw at Loki’s face.

“Do something, you idiots!” he howled. “Help me!”

His words seemed to snap his followers into action. In an instant, Loki was back on his knees, arms wrested behind his back, his head pulled back by his hair. Someone grasped onto the hilt still sticking out of his shoulder and twisted it, and it took everything in him not to scream.

“Scapegrace,” said Balthazar, wiping the back of his hand against the corner of his mouth. His hand came back stained red. “You are not nearly as much fun to play with as I’d hoped.”

“Then perhaps,” Loki growled, “You better kill me and have done with it.”

Balthazar stopped, looking down at Loki appraisingly.

“I mean it.” Loki gave a hollow laugh, difficult to do with his neck bent back and the hilt singing its agony in waves through his shoulder. “I’m going to cause all sorts of trouble for you if you keep me around a moment later. Kill me – or leave New Asgard and never come back. But you definitely need to do one of the two. I’m warning you.”

“That doesn’t sound like a warning.” Seraphina stood beside Balthazar, laying a comforting hand on his arm. “That sounds like a threat. Which you are in no position to make.”

Loki smiled, black eyes glittering in his face. “Try me.”

He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he saw a small shiver run through Balthazar’s spine. “I’m growing weary of this game,” said the man at last, almost lazily, though he was no longer meeting Loki’s gaze. “Bring forward one of the hostages!”

The black-haired woman was shoved forward to stand awkwardly before Loki, her head bowed. “What’s your name?” Loki whispered softly.

“V-Verity,” she managed, still not looking at him.

“Take heart, Verity. This is almost over.”

“I hope so, Your Highness.” 

“Mortal! How would you like the opportunity to win your freedom?” Balthazar strode forward, draping an arm across her shoulders, and smiled. Loki saw Verity flinch from the touch.

“Th-that depends, sir,” she said in a low voice. Balthazar’s smile dipped just slightly.

“Depends? Depends on what?”

“On what you would have me do.”

“Ah! Fair enough. Well, I’m pleased to tell you your task is simple enough. Your prince has been misguided, Asgardian.” He raised the pendant in his hand. “We need you to show him the light.”

Verity blanched. “What?” She tried to shrink away, but with Balthazar holding her in place, there was no where for her to go. “No, no I can’t –”

“Of course you can! I’d do it myself, but I’m afraid the sunlight doesn’t agree with me.” He gestured grandly at the waiting group of Asgardians. “Do this one task for me, and you and your people will go free. You have my word.”

“You’re lying,” she murmured, not quite daring to meet his gaze. Balthazar gave her a small smile – this one not at all reassuring.

“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s the only chance you’ve got.” As if by unspoken command, several of the vampires surged towards the Asgardians, one reaching out for the younger of the two children. A dark-eyed Asgardian man drew the child away, glaring defiantly at the grinning vampire. “What do you say?”

“Verity,” said Loki softly. “Verity, it’s all right. Do as he says.”

“Your Highness,” she began, but Loki shook his head.

“I promise. It’s all right.” His captors were releasing him, hastily stepping away, and Loki drew himself as upright on his knees as he could manage. “I’m ready.” 

Reluctantly, Verity held out her hand palm-up, and Balthazar dropped the pendant into her hand. “I wouldn’t suggest trying anything heroic,” he said cheerfully. “Not if you want your fellow citizens to survive this.”

The look Verity cast Loki was apologetic. “I … I am so sorry, Your Highness. I’m afraid … I’m not the heroic type.”

“I bet you’re more the hero than you think you are,” said Loki, quirking her a smile. 

“Actually,” said Verity, “that’s more my brother’s department.”

The faintest of frowns was beginning to build on Balthazar’s face. “Did you say your brother? –”

But it was too late, for then Verity had opened the locket.

The beam of sunlight burst from the uru in a blinding flash, hitting Loki full in the face. Centuries, it had been centuries since he had felt the golden-warm glow of starshine on his skin. For a moment, he quite forgot himself, and simply enjoyed feeling the sensation wash over him. He could hear the gasps of shock and alarm around him, followed by Balthazar’s own growl of surprise.

“What in Hellfire?” The voice was Seraphina’s. “Isn’t it sunlight, after all?” The warmth was suddenly gone – and for an instant, all was silent.

Then the shrieking began.

Blinking hard, Loki cleared his vision just in time to see Seraphina, face crumpling in the beam of sunlight washing over her from the heart of the pendant. Her hands and throat were turning to ash, her eyes leaking streams of dust. She was gone in moments, the pendant glowing from within the center of the ash pile that was all that was left behind. Balthazar crouched beside the remains in horror, though not close enough to put himself in danger from the still-shining locket.

“Terrible way of checking to see if it was working.” Loki reached out a hand, and Verity took it, helping him lurch to his feet. The other vampires were drawing away from them, fear etched in each of their faces. “The human equivalent would be staring down the barrel of a gun to see if it was loaded, really. _Ouch!_ ” He winced as Verity smiled at him, holding the bloodied silver blade she’d pulled from his shoulder. “Thank you. Might’ve given me some warning, though.”

“How?” snarled Balthazar, before Verity could reply. “How did you survive that?”

“Who said that?” said Loki, and then turned slightly to take in sight of Balthazar. “Ah! Sorry, didn’t see you for a moment. You were in my blind spot.”

“Blind spot? –”

“Right,” said Loki, only the voice that spoke was Thor’s voice, and his left eye was beginning to crackle with energy. “That enough time to sneak everyone away to safety, Sister?”

“Most assuredly,” said Verity, grinning. “So go ahead, Brother. Light the skies.”

Loki smiled – and while the smile stayed in place, Loki himself was suddenly melting away, his features blurring and distorting like snow in the rain. The other Asgardian hostages were beginning to melt away, too, and then it was only Verity who remained – standing beside the revealed King of Asgard.

Then the dark-haired woman squeezed her eyes shut, flinging up a hand to protect her face as she stepped closer to her brother. For one horrified moment, each vampire caught sight of Thor standing before them, electricity flowing over him like waves.

Then the lightning came.

* * * * *

“I have to admit,” said Thor, “It was pretty damn fun, getting to call down a little lightning again.”

“I still say that could’ve gone terribly, terribly wrong,” the Valkyrie groused. “You two fools were both just lucky.”

“I can’t say I mind a bit of luck.” Loki grinned at her. “To be honest, it really is a necessary component of all my plans.”

“You don’t say,” she said drily. She’d aged elegantly, over the centuries; her hair shot through with streaks of silver, the lines in her face seeming to outline the things she’d seen and the wisdom she’d gained. Strength still radiated from her in the way she moved, how she carried herself; Loki could not quite get over how good it felt to see her. She turned from Loki and Thor long enough to call a command to the guards attending the last of the rescued Asgardians. When she turned back, it was to glare at them. “Next time, maybe actually let us _help,_ eh?”

“You never would’ve been able to guarantee everyone’s safety with that big an army,” said Loki. “It really came down to trickery.”

“To lies, you mean,” said the Valkyrie, but she was grinning in approval. “Don’t think I missed the name you chose. ‘Verity.’ That means ‘truth’ in one of the Midgardians’ tongues, doesn’t it?”

“I never pass up a chance for irony.” Loki winked at her, then grew more serious as he watched the guards leading the last two hostages away. “Everyone’s truly safe? No one got bitten before we arrived?”

“Everyone’s fine,” the Valkyrie reassured him. “Including you two, it seems. That Talisman really works?”

“Apparently,” said Loki, and the word came out heavier than he wanted it to. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the sundial. It was glowing with a faint golden sheen, the magic already beginning to fade. They had a few hours left with it, at most, and the thought made his long-dead heart sink. They’d used the Talisman of Svalinn well that day. He did not regret his plan. It was just … 

_Five hundred years of searching,_ said a small voice in the back of his head. _Five hundred_ years _and it was all for nothing. I mean, I suppose, yes, it was a very good plan, but that wasn’t why I spent all this time trying to –_

“You two should head for the cliffside,” the Valkyrie was saying, and Loki blinked, focusing back on her.

“The cliffside?” he repeated. 

“This time of year, you’ve got about four hours of sunlight to enjoy. Winter in Norway isn’t really the most ideal time and place to spend a day in the sun, but it’s better than nothing, right? And if I understand this talisman-thing correctly, you’ve only got one shot.” The Valkyrie nodded her chin towards the outskirts of the city. “You’d best get a move-on to catch the best view.” 

She started to turn, then hesitated with her back to them. And then, quite before Loki knew what was happening, she’d turned around and thrown her arms around him in a hug.

“I missed you, Lackey. Try not to take her so long between visits next time, eh?” Her voice came outmuffled by his shoulder. Then she pulled back and gave a wink. “Catch some sunshine for me, eh?”

“Suppose I owe you,” Loki said softly, catching her hand to press the uru pendant into her palm. “It’s come in handy more times than I can count, Valkyrie. Thank you.”

“Then keep it.” She handed it back to him, squeezing his hand. “It’s good to carry a bit of home with you, you know?”

She smiled at them both, then turned and followed the retreating guards.

* * * * *

Loki had not returned to the cliffside since that day.

His journey back to the land of the living – that is to say, to be _among_ the living again, even if he wasn’t quite _one_ of them – had been a serpentine one, full of pit stops and detours and unexpected road hazards. When he had finally found his way back to Midgard, he’d arrived to find the war half over and his brother in the thick of the fighting. And then, of course, Thor had – he had been –

Well, anyway: Loki’s attention had, for some time, been otherwise occupied. Because bringing Thor back had only been the beginning. Even after things had settled, and they had returned to New Asgard and begun to divide their time between the settlement and the rest of the world, Loki had steered clear of the clifftop where he had said goodbye to Odin. Goodbye to his father.

As he and Thor reached the edge of the familiar field – and, really, it hadn’t seemed to have much changed, other than the grass being winter-brown and covered with frost – Loki wondered at why he’d never come. Was it because this place served as some sort of reminder of all they had lost, everything and everyone they had been unable to save? Not just Odin, but Frigga, and Heimdall, and their friends, and so many of the people of Asgard – and Asgard itself? 

Or was it because of all the things he’d not gotten to tell Odin, all those words that would remain unsaid … unless, one day, against all odds (and against his unnatural immortality), a path opened up to take him Home, after all?

He darted a glance to the side, wondering if Thor had come here since that day. He must’ve done, Loki couldn’t see how it could be otherwise – but when he opened his mouth to ask, the words stuck in his throat. Not because he was afraid of the answer, but because he realized now was not quite the time for questions.

Five centuries. Five centuries, he’d waited for this moment. Both of them had, even if Thor hadn’t realized it. 

Ahead of them, the horizon was still dark, but with the faint gray cast that heralded the coming of the sun. A familiar thrill of terror swept through Loki, followed almost immediately by a sense of elation. For so many centuries, the coming of dawn had meant annihilation, if they did not find a place to run and hide from the rising sun. 

But not today. Today – 

He’d expected Midgard’s star to suddenly burst forth from the line of the sea, but instead, the light began to bleed across the horizon in red and golden hues – the glow of sunbeams shining out long before the star started rising. He stood beneath the faint hues as if he were standing on the edge of the Bifrost once more, watching the colors shift across the pale skin of his bare forearms.

When at last the first edge of the sun appeared on the lip of the horizon, it was with a suddenness that should’ve shocked him, should’ve sent him instinctively stumbling back with a fear of burning, of searing into flame and ash and dust. Instead, he could only stand and stare, dead eyes not needing to squint against the shine, and drank in the light of the sun.

He heard Thor shift beside him, and realized they’d both been standing there for a quarter of an hour or more, simply staring at the burning star just on the edge of the sea. 

“You did it, Brother,” Thor whispered. His voice sounded faintly choked. “All these centuries, and you did it. You kept your promise.”

 _Never doubt,_ Loki wanted to chide him, but his voice seemed to have momentarily fled him. So he simply stepped closer to Thor, putting them shoulder to shoulder, and looked out with his brother at the dawn.

* * * * *

They stood for a long time on the edge of the cliffside. The sun had not risen high enough over the horizon to truly brighten the sky, instead casting them in long shadows of perpetual sunrise. But the light of the star itself still shone golden, and Loki found he could’ve asked for nothing more.

He’d had so many plans. Sun-soaked tropical seasides, or rolling sun-drenched fields, or forests dappled with golden starlight shining through the trees. Perhaps it would’ve been impossible, to pick a single place that would fulfil the longing they’d had all these years to stand beneath the sun again.

So perhaps this was enough, after all. Perhaps – 

“Remember what you said?” Loki asked at last. They’d been out for hours, and it was the first time he’d spoke – the first time either of them had had anything they’d needed to say. “When we were getting ready to dive in and fight our fellow vampires and save our people?”

“What?” Thor dragged his gaze away from where he’d been staring across the sparkling waves at the sun. “What did I say?”

“You said,” and Loki paused to toss his head, sweeping windswept hair from his eyes, “You said that you wouldn’t wish this existence on anyone.”

“I did,” said Thor after a moment, still watching Loki. 

“But the thing of it is,” said Loki. “That’s what I did. I trapped you within this existence. Without choice – without permission. I made a decision, and you’ve been bound by it ever since.”

“Is that why you’ve stayed away, all the time?” Thor folded his arms across his chest – not angry, but considering. “Because you were punishing yourself? Punishing yourself for trying to save my life?”

“Only I didn’t save it, did I? Because we’re not really alive. We’re cursed to a half-life, Brother. And I never asked you. Never _really_ asked you, if this is what you wanted.” Loki could feel his hands clenching slightly at his sides. “If you wish to be free of it …”

“What?” Thor was looking at him with an expression Loki had not seen on his brother’s face in a long time. “What, Brother?”

“We could just stay out here,” said Loki steadily. “Stay through the sunset, and the night, and into the morning. And … and get to see the sunlight, one more time.”

Thor frowned. “I thought the Talisman only works for twenty-four hours,” he said.

“It does. That’s the point.” Loki’s voice was soft. “If you are tired of this existence, Thor – if you want to be free of it … I’d understand.”

For a long time, Thor looked at him. Loki held his gaze, and waited. This time, he would give Thor the choice.

“Loki,” said Thor at last, “You made me a promise, that day on the Mad Titan’s ship. The way you kept it, well … can’t say I saw it coming. But you kept it all the same. And what we’ve done in this world? Building a new home for our people, and protecting those who share their world with us? That’s more purpose than most could claim. And I, for one, am happy with it. Maybe we’re not alive, true – but we’ve each built a life.” The smile Thor shone on him seemed brighter than the sun itself. “And isn’t that enough?”

“… so does that mean you’ll come traveling with me this summer?” Loki blurted out, because to say anything else was to risk letting the most unvampiric lump in his throat get the better of him. Shouldn’t vampires be above sentiment?

“Only if you stay for a few months this winter.” The sun was beginning to set, but the dimming light that glinted across Thor’s smile flashed in a way that could almost have been lightning. 

“Deal,” said Loki, and as he turned to bask in the final rays of sunlight, he felt something that, had he not been who he was, he might’ve been tempted to call satisfaction.

The sun was setting once again, it was true. But that was all right. 

They’d found their own light, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For magratpudifoot.


End file.
